


A Friend of My Son is My Kid Too

by Code_The_Poet



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Coffee Dad Sakura Sojiro, Gen, Mentions of past abuse, Mild Language, Sojiro cares more than he wants to admit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Code_The_Poet/pseuds/Code_The_Poet
Summary: Ren is out, but Sojiro can't bring himself to turn away the skinny artist kid without a meal. He ends up getting more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke & Sakura Sojiro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	A Friend of My Son is My Kid Too

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place sometime between the second and fourth Palaces, before Futaba joins the team.

Sojiro is washing dishes in the back of Leblanc when he hears the bells on the front door jingle. “Be there in a minute,” he calls, reaching for a towel to dry his hands.

There’s no customer waiting at the bar like he expects, but a quick look around reveals the artist kid that Ren sometimes hangs out with. He’s staring at the painting he’d left here with a troubled look on his face.

“Ren’s not here,” Sojiro informs him, assuming the intention behind the visit.

The kid doesn’t seem to hear him. He’s always been a little spacey, so Sojiro reaches for a rag and begins to wipe down the bar. He figures the kid will eventually say something, but soon the bar is spotless and still the silence stretches on.

Sojiro sets down his rag with a sigh and makes his way to the other side of the bar, wracking his brain for the kid’s name. Ryuji? No, that’s the blond delinquent kid. “Yusuke?” he tries hesitantly.

The boy’s head snaps around. “My apologies, I must have been lost in thought,” he says in a low voice.

“Eh, it happens.” Sojiro dismisses the apology with a wave of his hand. “If you’re looking for Ren, he’s not here.”

Yusuke’s shoulders slump visibly. “I see. I won’t trouble you any further then.” He turns towards the door, but something in his voice prompts Sojiro to call out.

“Hey, if you’ve come all this way, the least I can do is offer you a coffee. It’s on me,” he adds, remembering that Ren had once mentioned the kid was living off of scholarship money or something. There aren’t any other customers anyways, and he’ll be damned if he turns away someone who clearly has something on his mind.

Yusuke’s eyes widen. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Sit,” orders Sojiro as he turns back towards the bar.

The boy obeys, and Sojiro busies himself making coffee. Something rich to bring the colour back into those too-pale cheeks, he thinks, eyeing the cans that line the shelves behind the bar. He chooses one and starts the brewing process, glancing up at the kid from time to time. He’s sitting at the bar, staring down at his hands, and for the first time Sojiro notices the absence of his ever-present sketchbook.

“Here you go, kid,” he says, sliding the finished cup of coffee across the bar, along with a plate of curry. “Can’t let a customer go hungry under my roof,” he insists, interrupting the half-hearted protests. The kid looks like he needs a good meal anyways.

Yusuke bows his head in gratitude. “Thank you for the meal.”

By the ravenous way he digs into the curry, Sojiro knows his instincts were right. He watches the kid eat with a hint of amusement on his face. “No need to hurry,” he tries to joke, “it’s not like I’m going to take it back now.”

The boy freezes for a second. “O—of course not,” he stammers finally, resuming his eating at slower pace. He seems jumpier than usual, and Sojiro frowns.

He waits for him to finish eating before attempting to strike up conversation again. “Something on your mind?” he asks. He hopes the answer will be something mundane like upcoming exams, so he can give a stock answer about studying hard and send the kid on his way, but he has a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Yusuke is quiet for a long moment, and Sojiro starts to wonder if he’s even listening before he finally asks in a small voice, “Why do so many people take in kids for their own benefit?”

The blunt question catches Sojiro off-guard and leaves him scrambling for a response. He notices his knuckles have gone white where he’s gripping the bar and he forces himself to relax. “I couldn’t tell you,” he says, deliberately keeping his voice even. “There are a lot of crummy people in the world.”

“I thought he cared about me,” whispers Yusuke. To Sojiro’s alarm, his eyes are suddenly brimming with tears. “He was the only parent I’ve ever known.”

Sojiro struggles to recall what Ren had said about the kid’s living situation the night he’d stayed over. “You used to live with your mentor, right?” he ventures cautiously.

The boy nods. “He—he—” Then he lets out a sob and buries his head in his arms, his shoulders shaking.

“Easy, kid,” says Sojiro, making an attempt to soften his usually gruff tone. “You’re safe here.” The last part slips out without him realizing, but he can’t help but remember Futaba sobbing in his arms the day he brought her home. Suddenly embarrassed, he reaches for the now-empty coffee cup and turns to refill it, making a little more noise than necessary to cover up the boy’s quiet sobs.

At the clink of the newly filled cup on the bar next to him, Yusuke lifts his head and lets out a shuddering breath. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to lose my composure like that.”

“No need to apologize.” Sojiro winks, hoping to lighten the mood. “I’ve been told my coffee has that effect on people.”

Yusuke tries to smile, accepting the napkin the man hands him to dry his tears. “I just wish I hadn’t been so trusting,” he says, reaching for the coffee. “If I had noticed sooner, maybe some of the others…” His voice trails off, and he stares into the cup of coffee with a frown.

“You can’t go blaming yourself for other people’s actions,” advises Sojiro, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “You must have looked up to him a lot. It’s only natural that you would have trusted him.”

“He wasn’t always good to me, though.” The kid sounds pained. “I can’t say I was unacquainted with hunger, even before I had no place to go.”

Again Sojiro thinks of Futaba, so thin and malnourished when she came into his house for the first time. The words he means to say catch in his throat, and instead he reaches for the empty curry plate and starts to refill that as well.

“Oh, thank you,” says Yusuke when the plate is set in front of him again.

“Don’t mention it.” Sojiro masks his concern with more gruffness. He watches the boy eat, too quickly again, but he doesn’t say anything this time. He knows that old habits are hard to break.

“I still find it hard to hate him,” confesses the boy between bites. Despite his light tone, Sojiro senses that this particular concern has been weighing on his mind. “After all that he did to me, I sometimes find myself wishing I had never left.”

Sojiro leans on the counter. “People aren’t black and white, and it’s natural to miss the good parts of what he meant to you.” He feels like he’s talking out of his ass but he presses on, desperate to ease the kid’s burden any way he can. “Just don’t forget about the bad parts too. You’re in a better place now, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Yusuke’s voice is filled with conviction. “I have friends who have my back now.”

“Then that’s what matters.” Sojiro gives him a rare smile. “Ren cares about you a lot, if the way he worries about you is any indication.”

“I admit that I initially found it hard to believe that anyone would care enough to worry about me,” the boy says with a sigh. “Ren and the others have convinced me otherwise, however.”

Sojiro only nods, reaching to collect the empty curry plate.

Yusuke finishes the last of his coffee. “Thank you for the curry and coffee,” he says, setting down the cup. “And the talk,” he adds softly. “It’s been a while since I had an adult I could come to for advice. Ren is lucky to have a guardian like you.”

“Hey, it’s nothing.” Sojiro turns away to hide his embarrassment, missing the jingle of the front door in his preoccupation. “A friend of my son is my kid too.” He realizes too late that Ren is standing at the entrance, shock registered on his face, and that he’s said more than he meant to.

“Took you long enough,” says Sojiro before anyone else can speak, reaching for his coat. “I’m going out to buy cigarettes. Watch the café for me.”

“Y—yeah,” stammers Ren as he steps aside to let him through.

Only once the door of the café closes behind him does Sojiro let out the breath he hasn’t realized he’s holding. _Cigarettes,_ he reminds himself, turning towards the convenience store, but not before glancing at his own house, dark except for the lone light in Futaba’s bedroom window.

These damn kids will be the death of him.


End file.
